Turnabout
by Never Walk
Summary: Turnabout is fair play, at least Harry thinks so. Sequel to 'Master'
1. The Idea

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd be a much happier person. But I don't.

AN: Thank you to my best friend who became my muse when all my others abandoned me. If you'd like to read 'Master', go by my website. It's on my author's page.

-----

Harry watched as Severus tried to appear indifferent towards him, however, the professor failed miserably as yet another famous smirk transformed into a grin. The two of them had foolishly thought that Severus could maintain his cold demeanor towards Harry in public, but these practice sessions did not induce confidence. Harry knew that Severus simply couldn't look upon his lover without a tender smile. Luckily, it was just the two of them alone in the room. Embarrassing wouldn't begin to describe their situation if other students were present.  
  
"You're doing it again," Harry smirked. He sat at his desk in the potions classroom, studying every movement made by the professor.  
  
It was obvious that frustration was beginning to take over. "I am aware, Mr. Potter."  
  
Shrugging, Harry returned his attention to his notebook. He was trying so desperately to remember what Neville had done to that first potion, all those weeks ago, to have turned it into a servitude potion. Having the initial instructions before him didn't help since Longbottom had blundered the directions. What Harry really needed was Neville's help to make it again, or to find the servitude potion in a book. However, the former would require an uncomfortable explanation to his friend, and the latter would require a signed note from a teacher to get into the restricted section. And, of course, that would also lead back to an uncomfortable explanation...or a lie. Neither one sounded appealing.  
  
So, staring back at the potion instructions written in his notes, he tried to remember all of Neville's mistakes. And he would, no matter how many there were.  
  
-----

Harry's head fell back against the overstuffed chair in the Common Room. Sighing, he closed his eyes and rubbed his hands up and down his face.  
  
"Harry, what's wrong?"  
  
Eyes popping open, The-Boy-Who-Lived saw his good friend, Hermione. When had she arrived? He hadn't heard anyone approach. "It's nothing, Mione."  
  
"Harry, you've been staring at your potions notes all day. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me."  
  
"Mione, I'm trying to work on something. I just need some time alone." He quickly closed his notes and moved towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry needed time to concentrate on remembering what happened, and it didn't look like he was going to be able to in the Tower.  
  
His friend's voice reached him just before he stepped out of the Common Room. "Where are you going?"  
  
"The library."  
  
"Would this have anything to do with your relationship with Snape? Are you two fighting?"  
  
"_Bye_, Mione!"  
  
-----

Four hours later, Harry sat alone in a barely lit corner of the library near the potions section. He closed his notes again, dropping them on the floor. His head held in his hands, he asked aloud, "Why did this become so hard?" His head raised up a moment later, eyes bright and mouth wide. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect!"  
  
Jumping up, he scanned all the books on the shelves, searching for the right one. "It should be here...it's not an illegal potion...here it is." Harry reached up and pulled the tall book from the shelf and carried it back to his seat beside the only lit candle in the library. Immediately, he found the potion in the index and flipped to it.  
  
Harry allowed himself a mischievous grin as he pictured his revenge. Jotting down the instructions, he replaced the book and ran back to the Tower. He couldn't wait until tomorrow to start the potion.

-tbc-


	2. The Potion

_Harry is up to something_, Severus thought. _I don't know what it is, but he's definitely up to something_. The Slytherin sat alone in front of his fireplace, contemplating his lover's behavior of late. Fingers laced together and his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, he watched the flames.  
  
"What are you up to?" he asked aloud.  
  
Sighing, he opened the book that had been lying on the table beside him. He stared at the page for several minutes, not reading a single word. Then with a grunt, he slammed the book back on his table and stood.  
  
"What are you up to, Harry?" he paced. "Why has it been three nights since you've warmed my bed? Why do I never see you anymore, except in class? And even then, you avoid eye contact!" Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes, "Please, don't leave me."  
  
The clock chimed, alerting Severus of the time. "And to the Great Hall I go. Be there, Harry."  
  
-----  
  
Brooding in his quarters, Snape continued to think about Harry. From the faculty table, Severus had easily kept track of all the students in the Hall. Scanning the masses, he searched for one in particular; however, once again, he was disappointed. Where was Harry?  
  
"The boy is so thin, he can't afford to miss another meal," he massaged the bridge of his nose.  
  
Instantly standing at the sound of feet outside, he moved towards the door just as a note slipped through the thin crack below. He threw open the door, desperately hoping that Harry would be in the hallway, but there was no one. After closing the door, he picked up the note, then returned to his seat.  
  
He read the scrawl aloud, "Severus, I need to speak with you tomorrow. I'll be by at teatime. Harry." Dropping the note, Snape held his head in his hands. "Then this is it. It's already over."  
  
There he stayed the rest of the night.  
  
-----  
  
Severus set out the tea on the table, solemnly awaiting Harry's arrival. Being a Saturday, many of the students were about, therefore, he wouldn't have to worry about any interruptions. However, with the news that he was expecting, Snape thought that he would quickly be missing those bothersome disruptions.  
  
A knock, right on time. Harry let himself in, one hand in his pocket, and immediately sat down beside the tea. Severus remained standing for a moment, bustling about the room.  
  
From behind Snape, he heard, "Are you going to sit?"  
  
He'd prolonged it as long as he could, but now Severus had to sit and take the horrible news he was convinced was coming. "Well, spit it out."  
  
Harry didn't appear the slightest bit frazzled by his lover's short order. He simply picked up his teacup. "I poured the tea. Just the way you like it."  
  
Snape kept his eyes on Harry while picking up his cup. Taking a quick drink, he set it back down. "Now, what did you wish to speak about?"  
  
"Not yet. Don't you want to finish your tea?"  
  
Gritting his teeth, Severus answered, "No." Suddenly, flames were growing within him; he could feel sweat beading on his forehead. Spreading his legs, his hand unconsciously fell to cup his swelling penis.  
  
"Just as well," Harry smirked, "Severus, you look a little flushed. Are you feeling alright?"  
  
Snape wanted to respond, but couldn't seem to focus on anything, except how delicious his visitor was looking. And much to his delight, this visitor was blatantly staring between Severus' thighs. Following Harry's gaze, Snape noticed that his hips were moving on their own accord.  
  
"Wh-what?" the older man managed. When he turned back to Harry, he found the young Gryffindor was standing just before him.  
  
Harry spread his legs wide and slowly lowered himself onto his lover's lap. "This is called a lust potion, much like the one you gave me. I slipped it into your tea." His finger lightly traveled down Snape's chest, circling around his nipples, then disappearing into his trousers. "Now, it's your turn to beg for me. It's only fair."  
  
-----  
  
The look that Snape gave him at that moment was perfect; it was a mixture of desire, surprise, and plain, unabated fury. However, what was even better was Severus' lack of speech. His mouth continued to move, but no words came out. That potion was working even better than Harry had hoped.  
  
"Speechless, Severus?" The young Gryffindor smirked as he watched Snape's hand reach up to tease his nipples, but just before contact, Harry pulled his professor's hand away. "10 points from Slytherin." Potter inched closer until his erection was touching the older man's. "Don't make me restrain you," he whispered against Snape's lips.  
  
"I-I'd..." Severus panted.  
  
"You've found your voice?" he paused a moment for any kind of verbal response, "I suppose not." Harry had to laugh at the role-reversal. Even when he'd been planning this scheme, he hadn't dreamed it would be so enjoyable to see Snape totally losing control. He leaned forward to nibble on the skin just below Snape's ear, and immediately felt his lover's penis pushing back against his even harder.  
  
Potter leaned back, one side of his mouth elevated, "Looks like you're ready, Severus." He shoved his tongue between his lover's lips, relishing the way Snape submitted so easily. Offhanded, he wondered if this is what Snape felt like when Harry had been so willing to give himself, but decided that it was not the time to think about it.  
  
It took a good bit of self-control, but he pulled back. "I'll be going now. See you tonight."  
  
Pushing himself up, Harry ran his tongue over his lower lip before heading to the door, memorizing the desperate hunger on Snape's face. "Severus, be careful when you torture people, you never know when they'll take their revenge." Once the door was closed behind him, Harry jumped for joy, but his aching penis cut his celebration short. Only slightly wincing, he glanced back at the door, "Let's see how you like dealing with a hard-on that won't go away."

-tbc-


	3. And the Plan Backfires

Harry sat in the Great Hall, eyes fixed on the faculty table. Actually, fixed on an empty seat. Snape's seat. At first, Harry had been disappointed. When he'd been in that particular situation, he'd come to the Great Hall. His Gryffindor courage wouldn't let him do otherwise. So, even though he was a Slytherin, where was Severus? Hiding in his dungeon, devising revenge...perhaps trying to alleviate his condition? It didn't really matter because he wasn't eating in the Great Hall with the rest of the school.  
  
But then it occurred to Harry that Snape was hiding, most likely because of his embarrassment. Potter beamed. He admitted that he'd hidden from his lover before, but now the latter was hiding from him. That alone was sweet revenge.  
  
At least, that's what Harry told himself as he ran out of the Great Hall, heading directly to the dungeon. He couldn't wait another minute to be with Severus. Surly, the day had been as hard on him as it was on Snape. It had taken every bit of self-control not to go to his lover, knowing that the older man would be fantasizing about him all day...but more importantly, he'd be ready and waiting.  
  
The young man grew harder at the idea of walking into Snape's chambers to find the professor lying down, touching himself, and crying out Harry's name.  
  
Just outside the potions master's door, Harry took a deep breath to steady himself before walking in. However, the sight awaiting him wasn't what he'd had in mind.  
  
First off, Snape wasn't lying down; he was sitting at the desk tucked away in the corner of the room. Second, he wasn't touching himself; he was grading papers, making notes all over the students' scrolls. Third, he wasn't crying out Harry's name; he barely seemed to notice that the Gryffindor was in the room.  
  
"Severus..." Harry said, suddenly unsure of everything.  
  
Silence filled the room as Snape finished grading the scroll he was working on before looking up. "Mr. Potter, I am quite busy. Say whatever it is you came to say and leave," he barked, returning to his papers.  
  
His mouth hanging open, Harry didn't know what to say. How had things gone wrong? Confident that he could put the evening back on track, he spoke in his sexiest voice, "Don't you want me to stay, Severus?"  
  
The older man continued to grade, "As I said, I'm quite busy. If that is all, please see yourself out."  
  
The Golden Boy's shoulders slumped as he closed the door behind him when he left. Leaning against wall across from his lover's door, he quietly asked himself, "What happened in there?"

-----

The instant that Harry closed the door, Severus dropped his quill and reached for his own instrument. With the strength of his erection, he could have held the table up! He allowed his breath to be ragged again, as it had been before the show he put on for the boy. Snape refused to let Harry get the better of him. He had to demonstrate his more Slytherin abilities to his Gryffindor, and if that meant that he would have to go without his lover's nightly company, so be it. The pain between his legs was survivable...horrendous, but survivable.  
  
Barely able to stand, Severus slowly made his way to bathroom. Surely, his third cold shower of the afternoon would do the trick; at least, he prayed it would. He didn't know how much longer he could withstand his obvious need, or fight the potion that had completely taken control of his senses earlier. Ergo, he hoped that one time being turned away would be enough to teach Harry a lesson. Snape wasn't sure if he could to it again...he'd barely made it through just a few moments ago. As soon as he'd seen the boy, Severus had to force himself to remain seated, and not attack the boy, as he fantasized doing.  
  
And when Harry had lowered his voice to a purr, the older man had visions of nuzzling the area just below his lover's ear to make him purr in bed. Making him scream by nibbling on his nipples. Kissing and licking the tip of his penis until Harry could no longer form words.  
  
"Not what I should be thinking of," Snape muttered under his breath. He stepped out of the shower, his skin a light blue color that almost immediately surrendered to the flushed red that spread from his still standing member. After dressing for bed, Severus went to bed alone, suddenly aware of how large his bed seemed without Harry there to fill it.


	4. A Dream

Harry sat in the Potions classroom, Hermione and Ron on either side. He was still confused about last night, and had no idea how to find out what went wrong. The problem shouldn't have been with the potion. His lover looked ready the moment he drank the drugged tea. Then what happened between drinking the tea, and Harry going to him? Could Snape have used some kind of antidote? Harry didn't think so. The professor was so lost to his need, that Harry didn't think he'd be able to stand, let alone brew a potion.

But what else could it be? Beating his brains in and looking miserable, Harry only heard the professor enter the room. Even if he hadn't heard the door slam shut or the distinct thunder of billowing robes, he'd know from the sudden silence among the students.

The Golden Boy really didn't want to face Severus, not after the humiliating scene the previous night. How was he going to get through this class?

"Mr. Potter, if you are not going to pay attention, don't waste my time by attending class," Snape bit out from the front of the room.

Harry looked up. He couldn't believe that his lover had just said that without any form of provocation. What had he missed in class? Without meaning to, the boy's thoughts changed to wondering about the last time he saw Severus. What had he missed in that potion? It had seemed to be working well at first. What went wrong?

Jumping up, Harry couldn't stop himself from shouting, "What happened to you last night? You were supposed to be a walking erection, just thinking about me! Severus, you were beyond speech when I first gave you the potion! What changed? Why didn't you attack me the second I walked in that door like I wanted you to?"

His jaw dropping, Harry couldn't believe he'd just said that...to Snape...in front of the whole class! All of the other students turned stunned faces to him. Most seemed to be speechless as well, but then someone laughed. Then another, and another. Soon, all of the students were laughing, even Hermione and Ron!

Harry had only thought that being turned away from Snape was his most humiliating experience. But after this, he wanted to die. Running out of the room, he didn't dare look back

Sitting up, Harry gasped for air, trying to see through the curtains of sweat falling down his face. It had only been a dream, right?

"Oh please, let it have been a bad dream. I couldn't have really done that," he closed his eyes.

Laughing out in the hallway! Potter's eyes opened and he looked from bed to bed. He was in there alone. Standing up, he ran over to the window, shielding his eyes from the sun. Had it been a dream?


	5. An Unexpected Lover

Harry sat in the Room of Requirement staring at the near empty bottle of firewhiskey. Had he really drank it all? Judging by the way the floor was moving, he must have. He couldn't quite remember how long he'd been there since, after the third gulp from the bottle, everything was a blur.

He knew he'd have to leave the room eventually and face the others outside, but he wasn't ready yet. Though, once he thought about it, he knew he'd never be ready. Unfortunately, his outburst hadn't been a dream; it had been a disastrous reality. How could he have said those things in front of everyone? No doubt the whole school knew by now. What would everyone say? What would Dumbledore do to a professor who was having relations with a student? More importantly, what would Severus do now that Harry'd bought their relationship to the attention of the entire school?

Fighting back his tears, he drank the last of the firewhiskey, then sat the bottle down. He forced himself up, taking a few too many tries, then staggered out of the room. Harry leaned heavily against the wall just outside the Room of Requirement, trying his best to remember which way led to the Tower. The hallway around him spun, and he had to close his eyes or he'd vomit.

After pushing himself up, he started walking. He wasn't sure which way since he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open long enough to look around. All that mattered was that he got back to the Tower. Hopefully everyone would be asleep and he would have a few more hours before he had to face his house.

An hour of stops, falls, and finally asking a painting for directions, Harry stood before the portrait of the Fat Lady. In his state of mind, he was surprised he could regurgitate the password...even if it was slurred almost beyond recognition. But the Fat Lady had understood and swung open to allow him entrance.

Stumbling in, he fell on his face just in front of the fireplace in the Common Room. Once his head had hit the ground, his eyes closed and he slipped into a stupor, not hearing someone approach.

"Harry?" a familiar voice asked, "You alright, Harry?"

He could feel someone shaking his shoulder, then rolling him over. Harry tried to answer, but only a mumble came out.

"Harry, what happened to you?"

Another jumbled response. He could feel hands under his arms, hoisting him up, and the sudden movement made him dizzy. Harry had to lean on his companion or he surely would have fallen back down.

At first, he'd thought that his companion, whoever it was, would have taken him back up to his dormitory. However, that was proven false when he was deposited on the couch a few feet away. Eyes still closed, Harry could feel his helper touch him all over, no doubt checking for some kind of injury. But, in his mind, Harry imagined it was Snape's hands touching him for a whole other reason, and he got hard at the image.

His companion must have noticed because the hands suddenly stopped.

"Harry?"

Harry was sure he knew the voice, he just couldn't think of whom it belonged to. Did it really matter? Deciding that he didn't care who it was, he managed, after several tries, to ask, "Am I...sexy?"

Nothing could have hidden that audible gulp from whomever it was hovering no more than a foot away. "...Harry...I..."

"Please."

Breathing loud, the other person answered, "Yes. You're very sexy."

"Would you fuck me?"

Another pointed pause. "Yes."

Through the haze in his brain, Harry knew this was wrong. But that part was overridden by alcohol, frustration, and a hunger that Severus had been unwilling to satisfy. "Do it."

It felt like hours before those hands were on him again, this time the touching was far more heated and deliberate. Harry knew that he should tell whomever it was to stop; that he was in love with Snape, but he couldn't seem to. Instead, he opened his eyes to see Seamus, then quickly closed them again and arched into his touch.


End file.
